The Pope
by shoeychocolatXD
Summary: in this post apocliptic world,a man simpley known as the pope, fights his personal demons and a well known serial killer, hannibal lecter.


i do not own hannibal lecter so do not kill me over his name plz

plus it is a little dry but ya kno what, i like it.

The world has ended, yet I have not. People used to tell me all the time that I was stupid and crazy for ever believing that I would be pope, but here I am pope to the world. I am the practitioner of a dead language, the language of god. Less and less people believed and he knew it. He decided to take them back, but he left me, he left me to no one but the people he deemed unsavable. I did not understand it, and I could not believe if I did not understand.

"God bless" I turned to the next man "god less you too" I told him. Truth is I didn't believe that, I couldn't believe that. God didn't love us. What happened to us, it was cruel, like the little boy burning ants with the magnifying glass. It was the apocalypse, his creation, no rapture, no easy death, they all died so cruelly. When the Russian bombs hit, we were helpless. The only people that where protected where the ones in the prisons and me. If there is a god, I didn't see why he had to leave me here to rot with them, Me, his most devoted servant. He took all of them when those bombs hit. Now I'm preaching the word of god to people who had chosen to ignore it all those years ago. In this city, once a epicenter of commune and beauty, there are people who failed to appreciate it.

i rememberd it, i was preaching to the men of a prision because he asked me to. i heard the whistile of the bombs and everything went black. I woke up the next day in a pile of rubble, dead bosdies where everywhere. i cried for them, i cried for all of them. from then on i swore that god would not be my main priority if we where not his.

"Thank you, thank you, and god bless" I lifted my hand and stepped down of the small wooden stage constructed for me by my followers. I went past the alley, into my tent, everyday I had new people join my sermon, they all loved the idea of god and they all believed I would bring them that one step closer to the redemption they all craved. Even though I knew my heart wasn't in it, I still couldn't bring myself to take away their hope.

I slipped into my small brown tent and fell on my bed; the hat I wore on my head fell of to reveal the long hair I so carefully grew. It was long and black with flecks of grey. The tent that I entered had a cot, and a small dresser. I pulled off my robes and changed into my worn out clothes. No one would know who I was. They never would recognize their precious pope in clothes like these. I was never a standout person before, but now, in my old hippie clothes I would be a normal person, like everyone else. My clothes would also give me a sense of concealment. Because of what I do and who I am, some people want me dead.

I left the tent and started to walk to my home, in the old times my home would have been right by the central hub of activity, a place that has been compared to central park. I lived by the most dangerous people in the world; they are a group of the most sadistic serial murderers ever cultivated from the human race. Their leader is the worst of the worst. Hannibal Lecter, the smartest most sadistic man ever, stands at 5 foot 7, with slick back black hair. He was prone to unannounced and brutal attacks on even the peaceful people. He is 70 years old and the best and brightest of them all.

I finally got home, thinking about my choice of locations. I ran up the stoop and grabbed the handle of my door. The door opened right up and I didn't know anything was wrong until I heard the music playing. It was coming from the kitchen.

I walked calmly into the kitchen and I saw them, two men, the smaller man I knew instantly to be lecter. He had his eyes closed and moved his hands as if conducting an imaginary orchestra. As I walked into the kitchen he opened his eyes. Those eyes startled me; he had the eyes of the devil. His eyes where red and gold and burned like an evil fire. The bigger man smiled excitedly.

"Hello Michael, you've been a naughty boy haven't you" Lecter purred. The bigger man lunged at me and lecter smiled. I was knocked to the ground. He jumped on top of me but I kicked him in the face before he could pin me down. He rolled away holding a gash on his face. I got up and ran to the counter where I knew I left a steak knife earlier today. When I got there I saw that the knife was gone, I turned around to see that lecter was holding it, he stabbed at me but was to late an embedded the knife into the soft wood of my counter. I ducked into the entrance to my living room. I had a sharp tipped umbrella sitting on my table by my vase with clear marbles in it.

I snatched up the umbrella but the big man got to me first. He knocked the umbrella out of my grip and wrapped his hand around my throat. He slammed me into the wall and I kicked at him. I knocked the vase with the marbles in it onto the floor. It shattered and the marbles rolled around on the floor. I kicked him again in his face, the gash on his face spewed blood. little droplets of it stained my white livingroom walls. He stepped back and fell onto the corner of my table.i heard his skull crack and felt the warm blood drain in a pool around his lifeless body. I rolled out of his grip and fell to the floor.

Before I even registered that he was dead, Lecter entwined his fist in my hair not unlike a woman or child. He pulled my head back and bared his teeth as to sink them into the soft flesh of my cheek. The two rows of perfect white teeth gleamed in the sunlight ready to drive themselves into my cheekbone. My attention was caught for just a second by a small blue light emanating from my crucifix hanging on my wall. Suddenly it gleamed in the air and embedded itself into the back of Hannibal lecter aka Hannibal the cannibal. His face went slack and he froze, I pulled the long slender fingers out of my hair and helped him fall, I knelt down beside his immobile body and whispered in his ear the words I so desperately needed to hear.

"God loves you, god loves all of his children" and this time I believed it. As the evil sheen left his eyes he shed a tear for all that he lost and died. I did not know why lecter chose me or how he knew that I was who I am. I did not want to know his motives and I did not care why. I would sleep no different after the knowledge.

I realized that god had saw what happened and chose to intercept the tragedy that was unfolding. He had not given up on me as I had him, he forgave me now and I know why he had left me here. He had trusted me as the man who would teach his word to the ones who strayed from his path. He trusted me to save the world and I will. The world needs to heal, and I am the person to see that it does. i was born David Bowden but my true name is and always will be Pope Michael the first.

let me clairify, i am not religous, this is about hannibal lecter and finding something to believe in. do not punish me for the thoughts and views of this particular person.

read and review plz, i want to hear your critisizim.


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